


Kaleidoscope Life

by LateNightConversations



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateNightConversations/pseuds/LateNightConversations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a bounty gone awry, Spike takes some time to ponder everyday things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to Slow to Learn

Soaking wet and dejected, Spike Spiegel trudged into the old fishing ship he called home. With a groan he peeled off his trench coat, dropping it to the floor beside the door, it landed in a water logged heap. His suit jacket, boots and socks soon joined the pile.

“Hello? Anyone around? Jet? Ed? Faye?”

No answer, except the faint clicking of nails on the metal floor. _Guess the dog is the only one here._ Sighing heavily, he ran his hand through his wet hair that was plastered to his forehead. 

The bounty was supposed to be an easy pick up. A small fry, but still a decent enough chunk of change to make it worth his while. He would have had the little shit too, if trigger happy Faye hadn’t screwed things up. 

They had followed him into the bar, sat and had a couple drinks while watching him make a few drug deals. As soon as the bounty slipped out the back they had followed, hoping to catch him off guard.

Spike distinctively remembered telling Faye to stay down and wait, but no…instead she had gone in guns a blazing in typical Faye fashion, startling their bounty. 

Spike had chased him down the alley way and half way across town, before ending up under a building with a busted gutter, losing sight of the bounty and ending up soaked. At that point he gave and returned back to the ship, a drink and a good sleep sounding like a much more inviting option.

Making his way to the bathroom, he loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, turning on the cold water and splashing his face. Looking in the mirror, he stared back into his own brown eyes, he arched an eyebrow and studied his reflection, which in turn studied him back. Mismatched brown stared back into mismatched brown.

Colors, they were everywhere, his mind wondered onto the strange topic. His eyes were brown, the dingy hand towel on the rack beside the sink had disgusting brownish tinge from years of use, and at this point he could think of something else brown and 80 proof that would make the night better. 

Trudging out of the bathroom he tripped over Ein, hitting the floor hard. “Christ Ein! Do you have to lay right there?!” Pulling himself up, he glanced down at the dog and smirked. He really needed that drink now. _Ein’s fur is brown too._

Rummaging through the cupboards the lanky man sighed in frustration. “Where the hell is it? I swear to god if that woman swiped it I’m gonna kill her” Digging in the back of the cupboard, behind the bag of dog food his fingers finally hit smooth glass. _I knew she wouldn’t find it there. She wouldn’t dare feed the damn dog._ Pulling out the bottle of whiskey his smirk grew into a full blown smile. _Jack pot._

Rummaging through another cupboard he grabbed a glass and set it on the counter as he set to pour himself a strong one. As an after thought he put it back, opting to drink straight from the bottle. Unscrewing the cap he took a sip, and headed for the couch.


	2. Blue Mind

Bored eyes watched the rotating blades of the ceiling fan as if in a trance. Spike sat on the beat up yellow couch, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, bottle of whiskey cradled in his lap. Glancing down at his lap, he thought about his pants, they were blue. His mind wandered back to the odd topic it had fixated on earlier.

Come to think of it, lots of things in life were blue. The sky on a clear day was blue. The kind of day that made you feel like anything and everything was possible. Those kind of days however, usually gave way to rain, and the reminder that sometimes life isn’t all sunshine and happiness. In fact, more times that not it wasn’t.

Julia has the most amazing blue eyes. The thought made a grin tug at the corners of his mouth, however it was fleeting. Spike took a long drink and sighed. She _had_ the most amazing blue eyes, he corrected himself. Come to think of it, Jet had blue eyes too. Faye always hated when Ed tried to paint her nails blue. Taking another sip, Spike studied the bottle, maybe this would be just enough to chase away the blues.

Red, now there was a nice color. The Swordfish was red, man how he loved that ship. It could take one hell of a beating, but somehow managed to never let him down. If only more people could be more like that. Though he hated to admit it to himself, he knew that he had people in his life like that.

The dust that covered everything on the outskirts of the less inhabited parts of Mars was red. He remembered once going to the middle of nowhere with his father and uncle when he was a kid, watching them shoot targets. They had let him a pistol that day, the first time he had ever held a gun. He had come home with his clothes stained with that red dust, his mother had pitched a fit.

Blood was red, god only knew he had seen far to much of that in his life time, but he was sure that was something that would never change. He took another long drink from the bottle.

Ed’s hair was red, well reddish. So were stop lights, the sky at sunset, diamonds and hearts, and Faye’s sweater. He groaned at his last thought. _God damn woman._ His eyes scanned around the room, and noticed a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his boot across the room.

Yellow, the gum was yellow. Taking a gulp larger than he meant to, Spike sputtered a bit, wincing slightly at the burn. The rays of early morning sunshine looked soft and golden yellow, just like Julia’s hair had been. 

Sighing, he reached for a cigarette. Lighting it, he took a long drag, watching the cloud of smoke rise toward the spinning blades of the fan as he exhaled. He kept his eyes focused on it, until the meager stream of air broke the whips of smoke up into nothingness.

That gaudy outfit Faye wore was yellow. It left little to the imagination, that much was certain. In fact just this very morning she has been bent over searching for something on the bottom shelf of the fridge while he was trying to eat breakfast. Unfortunately all he could think about was how much he wanted to… _Jesus man, get yourself together._

“Uhh….another color..”

Green, yes green, now that was a nice color. The color of money, jealousy, and envy. Spike pondered for a moment if anyone was jealous or envious of him. The thought alone was enough to make him chuckle as he took another drag off his cigarette. He highly doubted anyone ever had been. 

Jet’s bonsais were green. How a man could find sanity spending time pruning those little things was something Spike could never wrap his head around. He had tried to imagine himself once caring for the little potted army, but the image had ended with him upturning all the plants and throwing the clippers across the room.

Taking another long pull from the bottle, he returned it to its position in his lap and continued to smoke. Faye’s eyes were green, yes they most definitely were. _Mischievous, bright, seductive, mysterious, beautiful._ Spike almost choked on the smoke he had inhaled. _Faye’s eyes beautiful? What the hell…_

“Damn it, you’re not even here and you’re irritating me.” Ever since the weekend Jet had taken Ed camping, Spike had become increasingly annoyed at how often his violet haired shipmate shoved her way into his thoughts. Spike laid his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “Faye…Faye Valentine” a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open at the sound of the main hatch opening. Suddenly Spike realized why she had been invading his thoughts. “Shit!..Faye…” he had failed to tell her that he was returning to the Bebop. He could only imagine how incredibly pissed she was going to be.

As expected with in a few minutes there she stood in all her pissed off glory, soaking wet from head to toe, those green eyes that Spike had been lost in thought over just minutes ago, filled with anger. 

“So when in the hell were you planning on telling me that you came back home?!” She took a step closer. “And why didn’t you answer your communicator?”

He took another drink. “I left it on the Swordfish.”

“Oh well how convenient Spike. Ya know I spent the last few hours looking for you. I was starting to think that, oh I dunno, maybe you were dead in some alley or something. Not that you really appreciate my concern. I’ll remember that next time jack ass.”

Half way through her rant Spike had zoned out, just staring at her. He couldn’t help but notice her hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her like a second skin, and that little drop of water that was making its way down her neck. _She looks kinda hot right now._ He lifted the bottle to check how much was gone. God I must be drunk.

“Spike! Hello…are you even listening to me?”

Spike snapped out of his reverie. Noticing that Faye was now considerably closer. “Uhh….yeah”

She reached out and snatched the bottle from him, taking a long drink before setting it down on the table. “Whatever Lunkhead. I’m going to get out of these wet clothes before I freeze to death”

With that she stormed off down the hall, slamming her door behind her as she entered her room. Spike intertwined his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. _Finally, peace and quiet again. That’s more like it._


	3. Slow Revolution

Peace and quiet was something that hardly existed on the Bebop, unless one was totally alone, which seldom occurred. As if on cue, the silence was shattered by a slamming door as Faye exited her room.

Feeling her weight plop down on the opposite end of the couch, Spike opened his eyes slightly. He gave a sidelong glance at Faye seated beside him. She was wearing shorts, and a too big t-shirt, a t-shirt that he recognized as his own. 

He let his sidelong glance travel up her leg, to her thigh, to the hem of her shorts; though his vision was quickly diverted to her hand as she reached to the table to steal one of his smokes. Rolling his eyes at her action, he shifted to face her. “Faye, do you ever think about colors?”

Faye watched Spike light a cigarette of his own, as she smoked and pondered over his question. “Are you drunk?”

Spike shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But come on, do you?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I dunno.” Taking a long drag off his smoke, Spike passed the bottle of whiskey to Faye. “What comes to mind when you think about the color blue?”

Taking a sip off the bottle, Faye turned her eyes toward the ceiling, as if it held all the answers. “My mother and grandmother both had blue eyes. They were really lovely women from what I remember.” Spike noticed the slight sad edge to her voice as she continued.

“It makes me think of blueberries, I love those, haven’t had them in a long time though. Blue reminds me of the kind of mood that makes people drink like this.” She took another drink and handed the bottle back. 

Spike tipped the bottle toward her, before he took a sip. “Amen to that.” He passed the bottle back to Faye. “What about red?”

Faye cradled the bottle in her lap as she finished off the last of her cigarette. “Hmm…red? Cherries, lipstick, the end of a cigarette smoked in the dark. Your face when you’ve had too much to drink.” A playful smirked tugged at the corner of her lips.

Spike brought his hand up to his cheek, he could feel the warmth of his alcohol flushed skin. _Drunk? Nah, not quite, but definitely getting there._

Faye took a much longer drink off the bottle than intended, she fought to stifle a cough and gag, as she swallowed hard. Screw it! Between the bounty getting away, and Spike ditching her out in the rain, Faye felt she could use a drink, or two, or five. Passing the bottle back, Faye couldn’t help but notice that Spike had scooted closer, his eyes studying her intently. She tried not to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Lately she had found it becoming increasingly difficult not to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“What about yellow?”

Spike was in mid sip when Faye snatched the bottle back from him, and took a second long drink. She reached to set the bottle down, but as an after thought took one last long drink before finally setting the bottle down on the table.

Spike opened his mouth to protest when she snatched the bottle from him, but as she inched closer to him, nimble fingers toying with the collar of his shirt, his words died in his throat.

“Your shirt is yellow..” Her words sounded slightly distracted. Her brow furrowed in concentration, as slender fingers gripped the fabric tightly. Faye could feel the heavy buzz of the whiskey setting in, as her drinking caught up with her. “Your shirt really is yellow.” With that she pulled him forward, catching Spike off guard as she pressed her lips to his.

Spike’s mind was reeling, but it didn’t take him long to respond to her kiss. He smirked against her lips slightly, surprised that they were much softer than he could have ever imagined. Slowly he pulled back, his eyes locked on hers, both their faces flushed from more than the alcohol they had consumed.

Faye quickly straightened up and turned her gaze straight ahead, Spike quickly followed suit, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Hey Faye?”

“Hmmm..?” 

“Did you really spend that whole time looking for me tonight?”

Faye remained silent, her eyes falling down to her hands in her lap. She nodded slowly in response. “Yeah…I was kind of, uh, worried about you.”

Spike pondered over her sudden openness, as he reached over to the table, plucking two cigarettes out of the pack. Lighting one, he offered the other to Faye, who hesitantly accepted it. 

“It’s kinda nice to know that someone cares enough to worry.”

Faye smiled faintly as she lit her smoke. “It is”

Spike nodded, both remaining quiet for the remainder of their cigarettes. Enjoying the moment smoking in companionable silence.


	4. Orange Sky

Steady, heavy footfalls echoed down the hall way of the old fishing vessel, as Jet Black made his way toward the living room of the Bebop. The first thing that met his steely gaze was an almost empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. Picking it up and examining the contents, he saw that only a small swig of the intoxicating amber liquid remained. The sound of a loud snore caught his attention quickly, and his eyes fell on a sight he was not prepared for.

Spike and Faye were both passed out on the couch, Spike was snoring away, and Ein laid sprawled out in front of the couch. Jet rubbed the back of his balding head, he was sure that the bottle that he now held in his hand was responsible for this sight. Looking over the bottle once more, he pushed back any nagging thoughts that most of the contents could have been merely back wash, and drained the rest in a large gulp. Setting the empty bottle back on the table, he turned his attention back to his sleeping comrades.

Spike had both feet planted firmly on the floor, though his body was slumped low on the couch, his head bent at an awkward angle, resting on the arm of the couch. Faye laid on her back, her head against Spike’s stomach. Violet hair splayed against a pale yellow shirt, quite the contrast. Her legs dangled over the opposite arm of the couch, Spike’s hand rested on her hip, her own hand resting on top of his hand.

Jet shook his head. “I don’t even want to know…I really don’t. You two look like a damned shit show.” The older man sighed, these two needed to get over themselves and figure things out. Flipping off the lights, he left, heading off to his room.

* * *

 

Spike shifted, slowly straightening himself up, rolling his head a bit, trying to stave off the stiffness that had started to form in his neck. Groggily he opened his eyes, his gaze falling downward to Faye’s sleeping form, in his shifting her head had slid into his lap.

The last thing he remembered they had been talking about random nonsense, apparently sometime between then and there they had fallen asleep. The room was dark, though he didn’t remember turning off the lights, maybe Faye had after he passed out. A new thought then crept its way into his mind, if she had turned out the lights, why had she come back to the couch?

Spike had found himself questioning her actions a lot lately, and even more so his own actions. In the ten months that he had been back on the bebop, since the whole syndicate nightmare was laid to rest, he had felt himself slowly changing. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not, but why fight the inevitable? Living that way had sure done a number on him in the past, it was about time he tried a new route.

Slowly removing his hand from under Faye’s and off of her hip, Spike reached around to the back of the couch, pulling down a blanket that sat atop it. Dragging it over Faye, he studied her sleeping face. She looked peaceful, but he already knew that. He had spent time doing this exact same thing not too long ago during their makeshift camping weekend. Spike couldn’t deny that he and Faye had slowly started to become pretty good friends. They still could bicker with the best of them, both knowing exactly how to set the other off, they would casually flirt from time to time, and once in a while both would let down the façade they created, and share something personal with the other.

Gently Spike brushed a stray piece of hair out of Faye’s face. _What are you doing to me woman?_ He knew exactly what she was doing to him. She was making him start to care. Well, on second thought, he had cared about them all long before he left to face Vicious, but lately Faye seemed to have this awful ability to make him think about feelings in depth, especially when it came to her. Then she just had to add fuel to the fire by kissing him tonight.

Laying his head back against the couch, Spike smirked. He had done more than enough thinking for one day. “G’night Faye” he mumbled, closing his eyes tightly, making note that all he saw this time was black. It didn’t take long however for sleep to take over, as black faded to sleep without colors. And for that he was grateful.


End file.
